A Violation of Courting Conduct
by Mogatrat
Summary: Lady Koba Adaar makes an unexpected visit to Josephine's office following Redcliffe. Light F!Adaar/Josephine fluff. One-shot.


Josephine nearly — _nearly —_ tipped over her inkwell when the door to her chambers burst open. She spared a shudder for what might have been, then looked up from the treaties she was copying to see who'd decided to make her life harder today. Her practiced diplomatic expression softened when she realized that she had to look up to see the intruder's face, and saw the firelight glinting off of her curled horn-caps.

"Sorry," Adaar said, holding up her hands. "I didn't mean to be so loud, it just — comes with the whole...territory." She gestured vaguely across her entire body. "Need to remember I'm not coming in here to beat someone up."

Josephine allowed herself a laugh. "It is no trouble, Lady Adaar. What brings you here at this late hour?"

Adaar looked confused for a brief moment herself, then scratched her head, ruffling the mohawk of red hair between her horns. "A...bit of quiet. Have you heard the ruckus outside?"

"I'm afraid not," Josephine admitted.

"Exactly. But if I'm intruding..."

Josephine looked down at her papers for a moment, then over to the fireplace where her kettle seemed just about ready to whistle. "Actually, I think I'll join you," she said, getting up and getting started on moving her chair across the stone floor. "This can wait. It _should_ wait, I simply..."

"Can't sleep?" Adaar asked, walking over and taking hold of Josephine's chair.

"Yes," Josephine said. "There's so much to do, and it feels as though I have to do it all tonight."

"Well, I'm glad you can spare a little time for me, Lady Montilyet," Adaar said with a slight bow. She hoisted up the chair and plopped it down in front of the fireplace, then took Minaeve's chair and did the same thing just as the kettle went off. Adaar sank into her chair as Josephine prepared a mug of tea for herself. The warmth in her hands soothed her aching fingers as she sat down. Adaar's eyes caught her for a moment — firelight reflected in intense green, but there seemed little life in there, and her expression was blank.

They had a moment of silence as Josephine steeped her tea, but eventually, she couldn't help herself. "I have heard...rumors, of what exactly happened in Redcliffe, but neither you nor Dorian have given Leliana a full report yet," she said, leaning over in her chair and trying to establish eye contact. Adaar kept staring at the fire.

"We've been too busy trying to forget it. Dorian can't hold his drink." Adaar shifted in her seat, putting a hand under her chin, a finger grazing an old lip scar that tended to draw Josephine's eye. "Have I ever told you the worst thing that ever happened to me, before the Conclave job? I'd rather talk about that than what happened in Redcliffe."

"I—well, no, I suppose not, but—" Josephine stammered.

"It was my birthday, my third year in the Valo-Kas," Adaar continued. "We'd just done a job for this Fereldan noble, over by Amaranthine. Some darkspawn had been causing trouble on her lands, left over from the Blight, and the Wardens were too busy frying bigger fish at the time. When the job was over and we came to get our payment, she paid a lot of attention to me, specifically. I was courteous, kind, and strong, according to her, and the man she'd sent to observe us and tell us where they were coming from noted my performance."

Josephine leaned over, trying to see Adaar's face to get a sense of how this was at all a bad thing, but Adaar kept her gaze leveled at the flames. Her freckles seemed heightened by the dance of shadow and light across her face.

"She throws us all a nice feast to celebrate, and at the end of the night, when just about everyone's gone back to camp, she invites me up to her room. When we get there, all the Valo-Kas suddenly pile out of the door, shout 'Surprise!', and give me a new axe, just forged that morning. They paid for it with the coin from the job. It's beautiful, enchanted, runed, everything. But..."

Adaar sighed, putting a hand over her brow. "I know, this is foolish. It sounds wonderful, doesn't it? And it should have been. I'm a warrior. I like weapons. I should have been ecstatic."

"So what was wrong?" Josephine asked.

"I didn't want the axe. The whole time I was talking with her, I felt—I thought—I thought that somehow, I'd stumbled into a miracle. That she might actually..." Adaar didn't seem to be able to get the words out, but Josephine suddenly understood. She gripped her mug tightly, a small sense of secondhand embarassment welling up in her.

"When you...prefer women, and you look like me, you get used to thinking it'll never happen. You think of the odds of finding another woman like you, then the odds that you actually like them, then the odds that they'll be fine with you being a Vashoth, and then you factor in — _this_ ," she said, gesturing in the general vicinity of her face, "and you just...You accept it. You joke about it with your friends, and you really think that you're okay with being alone. And then meet someone, and it seems like somehow everything's actually coming together, if even for one night, and you get your hopes up..."

"Oh," was all Josephine could offer as Adaar covered her face with her hand.

"I felt like such a fool. The Valo-Kas, they did it as a joke — they thought I'd think it was funny, and I pretended that it was okay, that I didn't mind, that it didn't hurt. For a minute, I forgot I was — I am — _this._ And when it all came back..." Adaar leaned forward and put her head in her hands. "Dorian and I tried to forget Redcliffe together, and all we did was remember the second-worst parts of our lives. It aches, not belonging anywhere, or to anyone."

Josephine's brow furrowed. "You do belong somewhere. You belong here, to the Inquisition," she declared. "You, Lady Adaar, are what keeps us together, whether you admit it or not."

"i belonged to the Valo-Kas, too. I even led them eventually. It didn't make me less lonely, even being among 'my people,' whatever that means," Adaar countered. "It doesn't change who I am."

Josephine stood up, putting her untouched tea on her desk and her hands on her hips. "There is nothing wrong with who you are," she said forcefully, walking in front of Adaar to force her to look at her. "You _are_ courteous, kind, and strong. And despite what you seem to keep suggesting, there's nothing wrong with how you look, either."

Adaar shot to her feet, towering over Josephine. "Really? Look at this!" She pointed to her face, her scars given deep shadows by the firelight, her nose crooked from several breaks, a smattering of freckles across skin that seemed so far from the qunari grey that Josephine had to wonder, for a split-second, if there was any Ferelden in her blood. But what captivated her, as they always seemed to, were her eyes, intense emerald, practically luminescent, and now they shone with suppressed tears, and now the anger drained from Adaar's face as they stared at each other.

Josephine reached up and cupped Adaar's chin. "There's nothing wrong with you," she repeated softly, standing on tiptoe to try and meet her eye level.

"Josephine..." Adaar breathed, and Josephine's heart fluttered to hear Adaar say her first name for the first time. And, feeling bold, she leaned up as far as she could and kissed her. It felt wonderful to finally touch that lip scar.

As she broke away, she opened her eyes to see Adaar trembling slightly. "N-not very proper, Lady Montilyet," she said, a shaky smile coming to her lips.

"I suppose not, Lady Adaar, but sometimes points must be made," Josephine replied, grinning back.

"I'm not sure I understood your message. You might have to make it more clear." Adaar drew closer, putting her arms around Josephine as she leaned down—

"Josie, I must speak to you about—" Leliana's voice seemed to come from nowhere, startling Josephine. She jumped back from Adaar and swiveled her head around, heat flaring in her cheeks as Adaar stepped back and rubbed the back of her neck. Leliana's blue eyes seemed to be laughing at her when she finally caught sight of her in front of the door.

"How is it that you always manage to enter without me noticing?" Josephine demanded, smoothing out her ruffles.

Leliana chuckled. "Spymaster," was her only reply. She looked to Adaar. "Good evening, Lady Adaar. I apologize, but I must steal the ambassador away to help deal with these mages we've freed."

"It's all right. I should...go check on Dorian. Leaving him in the pub with Sera might not have been the best idea." Adaar gave a curt bow and quickly made an exit, the door slamming shut behind her as Leliana made eye contact with Josephine and slowly shook her head.

"What?" Josephine asked.

"Don't fall in love with heroes, Josephine," Leliana warned, lips pursed, old pain surfacing on her face. "You don't get them back when they leave."


End file.
